Hello All, I remembered that I never told you how my trip ended… well, here’s the end of my story…

I woke up after a great night out of dancing and a few cervezas and decided that I would walk about town to see what was going on. As I walked out to the Plaza de Armas I saw a group of dignitaries following a band. The group was heading into the main square for what looked like a parade. I decided to follow and as we entered the main square there was a sea of Cuscanians awaiting the march of the band and the dignitaries that followed. THe celebration was to make the success of the students and their accomplishments. All students, ages 5 and up were on display in their folklore costumes and accessories. As each class passed by so too did the history of the Peruvian people. From Sherpa outfits complete with stuffed llamas at their sides, to seagul head-dresses and karate like robes with noisy beads tied around their stomping feet, the children danced along to flutes and drums. The Cuscanians were all eager to catch glimpses of their own as they followed the classes around the perimeter of the park. The one thing that stands out is the fact that the Peruvian people are so small. I wouldn’t consider myself a giant by any means, but next to the Peruvians I feel like one! Their cheeks are flush and are often rosy, their skin dark with yellow undertones, and their stature, although not loud and overbearing, they still carry a strong presence. I felt very much at home among the people and found myself enjoying the helado and other street vendor treats. I was, however, abrubtly reminded that I was an outsider by a 7 year old I overheard telling his friends that, “if you let the Gringos take pictures of you you could buy your own ice cream”. I quickly realized again, that of all the social classes represented in that park that day, I was one who stood out. It didn’t matter how well I spoke Spanish or how much I attempted to “fit in”, I was and would always be an outsider. I wouldn’t, I decided, let the remark ruin my experience, but I would be mindful of it as I left the small town, which I had decided after my complete Peruvian experience was at more times more Westernized than I had anticipated.

On my trip back to the States via Lima I met up with my friend Zoram one last time for dinner at, where else?, McDonalds! I told him all about my trip and was surprised that as a local, Zoram had never been. After our conversation, I think I may have convinced him to do the trip- and soon! I will not soon forget my Peruvian adventures… and look forward to my pictured memories we’ll soon develop and nail into our apartment wall.